


Camisole de force

by padme789



Category: Harlots (TV)
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, Character Death, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Femslash, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 03:47:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16110149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padme789/pseuds/padme789
Summary: Lady Isabella Fitzwilliam, has found herself within the confines and total isolation of Bedlam. What could she have possibly done to warrant a life sentence, in such a place? Can her thoughts of Charlotte, keep her mind afloat, and out of the abyss of one's constant fears.





	Camisole de force

**Author's Note:**

> This is a multi-chapter idea I got while revisiting one of my favorite early science fiction novels by Jack London(White Fang, Call of the Wild) called The Star Rover. The 2005 movie The Jacket with Adrian Broady and Keira Knightley, is loosely based on the book to give you an idea.
> 
> I want to play with more than just the concept of reincarnation, past lives, and the "soulmate connection". So there will be some modern day, future, and fantasy/horror put in for good measure. Basically, inspiration from a hand full of Liv Tyler's movies.
> 
> I found after rewatching season 2, there are moments where under the timid-demure aristocratic demeanor, Lady Fitz is very much her brother's sister. Any moment she's likely to snap, and you hope it's her brother on the receiving end. Equally capable of doing horrible things, but like Margaret Wells doing them to protect those she cares about, and not for sport.
> 
> There is going to be character death, but none of our leading ladies.
> 
> This has not been betaed, I'm sure there are mistakes, considering I wrote this on my phone's memo pad. (Computer is running a whole slew of diagnostics that I don't want to interrupt)

This message currier was not their typical delivery boy. No, this 'boy', who quickly turned on his heels, he was a young man of station. Well, at least he came off as educated.

A young man, no older than Lucy, knocked on the door to the Wells' House on Greek Street. He all but thrust a thick packet and letter into the hands of William North, as he opened the door, with an abrupt, "for a Miss Charlotte Wells." In no certain terms, he scooted away.

Taken-a-back William shut the door and made his way into the kitchen. He set the packet and letter in front of Charlotte.

"What's this," she asked with an unintentional tone to her voice. She along with present company: Lucy, Nancy, and Franny stared down at the foreign object, which invaded their space.

William shrugged. "Messenger, shove it in ma face, said it was for you, ran off."

Charlotte continued to look at the bundle on the table. The last time a letter appeared so unannounced, and sat on this very table of Greek House, the contents were filled with a rushed apology. So rushed, Charlotte had been able to toss it to the side. Only to have it meander inside her mind long enough, to create a dull longing. A longing she compartmentalized, very quickly after.

"Well, open it then," Lucy spoke, impatience written across her face.

"Yeah, it's not like it could bite yah, y'know", added Franny.

"Y'd be surprised..." Charlotte trailed off, interrupted by Nancy. "They've got a point."

She huffed, before grabbing the letter then ripping it open and pulling out two sheets of thin, no doubt expensive, parchment.

The top sheet read as follows:

 

Law Offices of Benjamin Fredrick Tilbury III

Enclosed, a letter directed from: Governess Cecilia Grace Tilbury

To reader: Miss Charlotte Wells

 

Nancy whistled, a smirk on her face. " Not, even your Ma could piss on a cull's woman hard enough, to justify a letter."

"I don't think... that's got anything to do wit' this," spoke up Lucy, she craned forward to get a better look.

"Well," the women asked unison.

Charlotte cleared her throat and began to read.

 

Dear Miss Wells,

My writing, to you, I hope has come in-opportune time. When originally transcribing the package of papers set before you, I was afforded one-day weekly visits. Seeing as the summer months have turned over to fall, a more regimented day-to-day is needed, for Sophia, if she is to properly transition from boarding school to home-studies.

However, this letter is not in regards to such a sweet little secret as Sophia. No, what I have asked Benjamin to enclose only to you, and whomever ever you deem worthy. Are not just scathing secrets, or what many, from her societal circles, would on the surface read like the rantings of a mad woman.

What I have enclosed to you, Charlotte Wells, on the behest of their author, herself, are a set tales and most intimate of musings. Spoken to me by Lady Isabella Fitzwilliam Heiress of Blayne, my most ancient and intimate of friends. Of which has also been said, most notably by my own father, that there too could be of some form of relation, between us, on her mother's side.

Some months ago--ten months, two weeks, and three days--to be precise, a rumor began spreading in London of a certain Marquess' abrupt disappearance, and sudden body recovery. One would say perhaps, the truth truly is stranger than fiction, but such conversation is for another day. One simply must know, Charlotte, our Isabella, in no uncertain terms, 'did what must be done', as she so described. Not once did she deny, and in that lack, that unwillingness to deny her deeds, the few connections collected by her father's politics, parliament took pity. Pity that has allotted her, a lifetime to Bedlam. A lifetime started eight months, three weeks, and four days ago, as I write this to you.

Benjamin, in all his due diligence, is currently concocting her appeal as I write, hopefully, we are to see a full release, but at best a shortened sentence of a few years. Unfortunate is the court of law for all those even with money, not born of alabaster skin and a penis.

But, as stated above, that is a conversation for another day. Back we come to the matter at hand. Enclosed to you, Charlotte, at Isabella's request, and transcribed by myself. Are the mental musings concocted inside our dear Lady's head to cope, and maintain some semblance of her sanity. It is thoughts of you and her darling Sophia, that give her true strength never allowing her to break.

My regards,  
Cecilia Grace Tilbury

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little prologue of sorts. I am going to do my best to not create a Mary Sue with this original character, she's simply there as a way to link communications between Charlotte and Lady Fitz, as well as fill in some holes that lingered in the season 2 plot, like who did they talk to to get Sophia out of that boarding school?


End file.
